Churchman, listening to the solemn chant of weal music or the deep
tones of the organ, thinks of the song of the elders and the golden harps
of the New Jerusalem.

The heaven of the northern nations of Europe was a gross and sensual
reflection of the earthly life of a barbarous and brutal people.

The Indians of North America had a vague notion of a sunset land, a
beautiful paradise far in the west, mountains and forests filled with
deer and buffalo, lakes and streams swarming with fishes,--the happy
hunting-ground of souls. In a late letter from a devoted missionary
among the Western Indians (Paul Blohm, a converted Jew) we have noticed a
beautiful illustration of this belief. Near the Omaha mission-house, on
a high luff, was a solitary Indian grave. "One evening,"
says the missionary, "having come home with some cattle which I had been
seeking, I heard some one wailing; and, looking in the direction from
whence I proceeded, I found it to be from the grave near our house. In a
moment after a mourner rose up from a kneeling or lying posture, and,
turning to the setting sun, stretched forth his arms in prayer and
supplication with an intensity and earnestness as though he would detain
the splendid luminary from running his course. With his body leaning
forward and his arms stretched towards the sun, he presented a most
striking figure of sorrow and petition. It was solemnly awful. He
seemed to me to be one of the ancients come forth to teach me how to
pray."

A venerable and worthy New England clergyman, on his death-bed, just
before the close of his life, declared that he was only conscious of an
awfully solemn and intense curiosity to know the great secret of death
and eternity.

The excellent Dr. Nelson, of Missouri, was one who, while on earth,
seemed to live another and higher life in the contemplation of infinite
purity and happiness. A friend once related an incident concerning him
which made a deep impression upon my mind. They had been travelling
through a summer's forenoon in the prairie, and had lain down to rest
beneath a solitary tree. The Doctor lay for a long time, silently
looking upwards through the openings of the boughs into the still
heavens, when he repeated the following lines, in a low tone, as if
communing with himself in view of the wonders he described:--

"O the joys that are there mortal eye bath not seen!
O the songs they sing there, with hosannas between!
O the